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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272429">last call</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades'>justlikeswitchblades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multi, fjordmolly + widomauk + beauyasha inside (but all only briefly), tagging the rarest pairs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:21:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"“So, tieflings have been around for a while now, and we’ve made some progress in terms of, you know, inter-species relations. Now, when I’m out and about, I don’t get questions about the demonic history thing. You know what strangers ask me about instead?” He prompts, raising an eyebrow at the table of patrons closest to the stage.</p><p>"They ask me if my dick is purple too."</p><p>***</p><p>“You’re never going to let that dick joke die, are you.”</p><p>“Of course not; it’s a staple!” Mollymauk grins as Beauregard rolls her eyes. "All good comedy has to come from somewhere. Sometimes, that somewhere is you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett &amp; Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caduceus Clay/Mollymauk Tealeaf, Dairon/Beauregard Lionett, Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea/Beauregard Lionett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>last call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this fic features a paragraph or two mentioning sexual attraction regarding the following ships:</p><p>molly -&gt; fjord, caleb, caduceus</p><p>beau -&gt; dairon, yasha (feat. spoilers for episode 46), marion lavorre, and a smidge of beaujester</p><p>but mostly, this is a fic about two homies missing each other. have some <a href="https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1DWVqfgj8NZEp1?si=lb-h_HR9TAGI8lryo2z_4A">mood music</a> to go along as you read.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s kind of rough, when you’re a kid, learning how babies get made,” The violet tiefling grins, leisurely walking the length of the corner stage as he segues into his bit. “But when you’re a tiefling, it’s a little extra traumatizing to learn about the origin of your species. You learn that some monkeys evolved into humans, and humans kept evolving. And one day, one of those humans got a little bored and decided to get a little frisky with the overlord of the Nine Hells, as you do, and boom! Little devil children. Most of you read that story in your history books--just reminding some of the elves in the room,” He quips to a smattering of laughter in the bar, tail lashing playfully.</p><p>“So, tieflings have been around for a while now, and we’ve made some progress in terms of, you know, inter-species relations. Most creatures understand that, while we still look a lot like good ol’ Asmo, we’re not that evil. Now, when I’m out and about, I don’t get questions about the demonic history thing. You know what strangers ask me about instead?” He prompts, raising an eyebrow at the table of patrons closest to the stage.</p><p>“They ask me--” He presses his lips closed, his own muffled laughter making its way to the microphone and reverberating quietly. “They ask me if my dick is purple too!” Now, I know I dress like I’ve been held hostage in a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat since I was a child,” He jokes, gesturing at the symbols and jewels sewn and embedded into his maroon jacket. “One could say I’m practically inviting the question. But what do they expect me to say in response? ‘Yes, my dick is a fucking rainbow, would you like to find the pot of gold at the end of it?’” He waits for a moment center stage, smiling as the laughter rises and settles back down.</p><p>“Thank you--it’s great to be back in town. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Mollymauk Tealeaf, I got my start here in Trostenwald--and I’d just like to remind you that it’s not color, or size, but what you do with it that matters.”</p><p>***</p><p>“You’re never going to let that dick joke die, are you.”</p><p>“Of course not; it’s a staple!” Mollymauk grins as Beauregard rolls her eyes; he’s dressed down now, in a loose semi-sheer white shirt that’s half-tucked into black leggings, brown boots hugging his calves. “All good comedy has to come from somewhere. Sometimes, that somewhere is you.”</p><p>He pauses, swiveling around on the barstool seat to exchange a brief hello with one of the last familiar faces that’s tapped him on the shoulder after his routine. Beauregard sits next to him in a navy blazer tailored to her, a slim yet boxier cut, the first few buttons of her collared shirt unbuttoned, dark grey slacks cuffed at her ankles, her freshly polished black wingtips resting on the last stool rung. She tilts her glass of whiskey on the rocks in her hand, amber liquid and the gold of her wristwatch glinting in the low light.</p><p>“I was young, and drunk, and didn’t know much about the world,” She is quick to emphasize when Mollymauk turns back to his glass of wine. “It’s like, people’s nipples are usually a different color than the rest of their skin! It was an innocent question!”</p><p>“Hey.” Mollymauk tilts the rim of his glass towards hers, the deep red liquid mirroring his eyes. “At least it’s proof I won’t forget you when I’m famous.” She scoffs in her usual way, but follows it up with a small smile, and they clink glasses, both of them sipping slowly. Beauregard sets her glass down on the stained cork coaster.</p><p>“Missed you, asshole.” </p><p>Mollymauk gazes at her after he sets his own glass down, resting his elbow on the bar, cheek in his hand, the splay of his fingers obscuring just a fragment of the peacock feather tattoo under his eye.</p><p>“I missed you too, Beau.” Beauregard holds his gaze for a moment, then looks away, shifting a little in her seat. She pushes her cheek out with her tongue, her face growing warm.</p><p>“We’re both too sober for you to be flirting with me,” She mumbles, feeling a little stupid deflecting her friend’s affection as she half-heartedly swats at Mollymauk’s bicep with her knuckles, but reassured he accepts it good-naturedly, faking a silent expression of pain.</p><p>“I have to say, you do have a point with the nipple thing,” Mollymauk lifts his hand, gesturing in her favor. “Was at a party once after you dropped out of school, doing some readings, dealing a little on the side,” He adds, out of the corner of his mouth. “Met this guy, half-orc, kept in shape but was humble about it--it seemed like people assumed he belonged in a frat, so he ended up in one because he was too nervous to object to the process? Anyways, he had this gorgeous skin tone, this aquamarine that faded into lime ombre--his freckles, fingernails, nipples? All the darker color.”</p><p>“...And his dick?”</p><p>“Didn’t get that far.” Mollymauk shrugs. “We got shirtless and made out and grinded on each other in the host’s bathroom for a few minutes, but he ultimately opted out. Seemed kind of nervous about the whole thing. He was handsome, but good for him for knowing his boundaries.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beauregard nods, her voice pitching a fraction higher. “Good for him.” She brings her drink to her lips again, blinking hard after swallowing a hearty gulp. “He make it into your top three missed connections?”</p><p>“Considering I remember him…I suppose so.”</p><p>“God, you really hung around that school like you were a student, and not just everyone's favorite dealer. Whatever, tell me about the other two.”</p><p>“Huh.” Mollymauk taps his fingers on his glass, leaning back to ponder the question. </p><p>“Oh, the second one <i>has</i> to be this guy I met when I was a barista near one of the bigger universities up north. Ginger, human, had this nice beard, but his hair almost always looked greasy. Not in a bad way, though--kind of like a grad student perpetually on the final day of their dissertation, or homelessness chic. Had that kind of energy, too, but never drank coffee. He spoke enough Common to order a cup, heavy accent, but when he’d settle down at his table, always with a huge tome of a book, this goblin woman would come in and join him. Pretty sure I caught her pouring a little something extra into her drink more than once--but who am I to judge?” Mollymauk grins, pausing appropriately for a drink. “Also, had a cat with him most of the time. Magical cat. Never thought of a good pussy joke to make--at least, he always seemed too deep in his studies to notice whenever I took his empty cup away. He was gone after half a year--probably was an adjunct professor.”</p><p>“Yup. Cool. Great. Definitely know both of those guys, would probably even say we’re friends, can verify they’re both like that.” Beauregard nods along rapidly with her own words, taking another swig of her drink. “Don’t know if I like knowing what I’ve learned, but it is what it is.”</p><p>“And it could have been worse!”</p><p>“Molly, I swear to your God--for your own health, and my sanity, I better not know this third guy.”</p><p>“Aw, but he was such a sweet guy! Big firbolg, vegan, hippie kind of fellow. Said he was an undertaker of sorts, easy to make conversation with. We had tea together--got a kick out of my last name--and honestly, I don’t do long term stuff, but we went out on multiple dates. I thought I was a changed man. We finally had dinner together at his place, and, turns out? He was celibate! Didn’t even realize that we were sort of dating. We ended up having a nice night-long cuddle though, and happily parted ways. I mean, Beau, he was over <i>seven</i> feet tall. You know it had to have been--” Mollymauk raises his eyebrows, drawing his hands apart. “I’ve never enjoyed not getting dicked down that much in my life.”</p><p>“Okay…that’s definitely the worst story you’ve told me tonight, because it sounds like it made you a better person, which both makes me happy and scared for you. Please chug the rest of your wine right now to balance the universe out.” Mollymauk happily obliges, and Beau signals to the bartender for two more drinks for the both of them.</p><p>“Alright!” Mollymauk clamps his hand down on Beauregard’s shoulder, grinning, his eyes gleaming. “That was my top three. Your turn now.”</p><p>“Dude, ouch,” Beau winks an eye in pain, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Using magic to get me to spill isn’t cool, even if you’ve freshly traumatized me.”</p><p>“Shit, sorry.” Mollymauk pulls back. “Well...you’re usually not that forthcoming.”</p><p>“Yeah, I trust like, four people out of however many there are in the world, you included, and you pull that shit? What the fuck?”</p><p>“...You trust people other than me?”</p><p>“Well, I learned how to trust someone for pretty much the first time in my life, and then he up and disappeared without warning,” Beau exhales, trying to not feel guilty. “I think I was allowed to find someone else to keep me company, or at least help me pay rent.”</p><p>Mollymauk is eager to get his second glass of wine in hand when it arrives. He watches Beau silently, the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders, the flare of her nostrils, the way she studies the woodgrain of the bar as if committing it to memory, waiting until she closes her eyes, the tension slowing leaking out of her body language.</p><p>“I never said I was going to be around forever, Beau,” He says quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t owe you an apology.”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself,” Beau responds at the same volume. She takes another moment, then sits up straighter. “I’ll give you my top three.”</p><p>“Okay, so, I’m very comfortable in like, my masculinity, and my level of butchness, but I still have this thing for women who can beat me up and could break my spine over their knee if they had to? So, after I dropped out of school--”</p><p>“To become a cop, yes.”</p><p>“Listen, I knew my dad was doing some fucked up shit! I wasted some of his money, and I thought joining the system would be the best way to catch him. I quickly learned it wasn’t. So I needed something else to do, and he still thought I was at school-slash-probably didn’t even care if I wasn’t, but he was still giving me money. And I was angry about that, and you had just left, so I was pissed about that too. I needed an outlet, so I ended up joining this--” Beau waves her hand in the air, face scrunched up as she tries to find the right words. “Mixed martial arts cult.”</p><p>“Wow.”</p><p>“Hey, did I fucking interrupt your stories? Anyways, my first mentor was, and technically still is, this elf named Dairon. Shaved head, dark skin, super fit, metal as fuck. Definitely beat me up a lot, definitely still could. Thing is, she taught me a lot about controlling my emotions, and we’re basically independent contractors after a certain level of training, so I don’t really see her that often, but I appreciate what she’s done for me. And she’s super hot. Obviously, all elves are hot, and it’s kinda weird ‘cause she’s like this guiding figure in my life that I always needed, but I’d like to go down on her someday, y’know, as a thank you?”</p><p>“So, you’re a spy now?”</p><p>“Basically, yeah.”</p><p>“Shit, and I’m just trying to be a stand-up comedian.” Mollymauk glances around the bar before lowering his voice. “Do you have a gun on you?”</p><p>“Haha, yeah,” Beau can’t help grinning as she flexes slightly. “Two of ‘em.” Mollymauk holds his forehead in his hand.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>“Seriously! Sometimes I use knives, if I have to, but it’s mostly just MMA.” Beau still grins. “Holy shit, you never even acted that paranoid when you were my dealer. Consider your apology accepted.”</p><p>“Please, move on.”</p><p>“Okay, number two--you remember that woman you brought around with you a few years back, that beefy punk goth chick?”</p><p>“Yasha? Well, you and her--that’s not surprising.”</p><p>“Fair. We flirted on and off--it was mostly me flirting with her--but she was kind of an introvert. I figured she just needed to get used to me, or maybe she had just gone through a breakup and needed some time. Turns out she had a wife, but she’s a widow now. Or are you a widower if you’re a lesbian and your wife dies? I don’t know the term. Anyways, not only did her wife die, but someone <i>murdered</i> her wife, because they didn’t approve of their marriage or whatever. So we decided we’d just be friends, ‘cause that’s, y’know, a lot to deal with emotionally. Would definitely still tap that, if she felt emotionally available for it, but definitely giving her space in that situation. I see her once in a while; I think she’s finding religion or something to help cope. And now I kinda feel bad for telling you all that, because your face is saying you didn’t know…?”</p><p>“Um, yeah.” Mollymauk lets out a breath, running a hand through his hand. “I think I might need a minute. We bummed around together for two years, but she never told me why she was willing to just...be on the road. I hope your third story is more positive than that one?”</p><p>“I mean...it’s a little morally questionable, but it’s kind of justified?”</p><p>“With me, that usually tends to be the case.”</p><p>“Well, you might have heard of her--not just ‘cause you’re both tieflings, but because you’ve traveled a lot. She goes by, uh, the Ruby of the Sea…?” Mollymauk shrugs, not recognizing the name.</p><p>“Okay, so, she’s my friend’s mom, but she’s also a prominent sex worker. Like, pretty prominent on the coast, as far as I know. And I’m, like, conflicted, ‘cause I don’t want to make things weird with her, or my friend--like, I’ve met her, just, as my friend’s mom. It’s kind of weird to know that you could, in theory, pay money to fuck your friend’s mom. And she’s probably selling nudes through a legal avenue somewhere, in case I was that curious, but it makes me feel guilty just thinking about it. Also, sometimes my friend and I--her daughter--sometimes flirt, in like, the joking way, but also sometimes in the not joking way, so it’s just kinda….yeah.”</p><p>“As a periodically starving artist who had once thought about selling their body as a source of income, I can relate to part of that story. But yeah, sounds a little rough.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Beau lifts his drink to her lips, and pauses with a curious tilt of her head, looking at Mollymauk. “Do you think we’d ever…?”</p><p>“Us? Ugh.” Mollymauk wrinkles his nose. “We’re both attractive, but, no.”</p><p>“But there was that one time, when we were roommates, and we did shrooms together--”</p><p>“The shrooms you let a dealer bribe you with so you wouldn’t arrest him?”</p><p>“We both profited from that experience! Anyways, we did shrooms together, and we both woke up naked in separate areas of the apartment, no memories of what happened the night before. Something could have happened!”</p><p>"Why are you thinking about this?*</p><p>“I don’t know, we were talking about sex! You flirt with me!” Beau shrugs. “We could end up in a ‘Last Two Humanoids on Exandria’ situation. You never know.”</p><p>“I flirt with everyone,” Mollymauk corrects. “And if we ended up in that situation, we would say our goodbyes, part ways, jerk off, and die happily. The end. You know why I know that?” He leans over and places a hand on Beauregard’s neck, smacking a kiss against the side of her head; she instinctively jerks away. “Because you’re like that.”</p><p>“I’m like that because <i>you’re</i> like that,” Beauregard exhales, shrugging Mollymauk’s hand away. “Geez, you act like I’ve never given you a hug before.”</p><p>“Yes, because your hugs are incredibly awkward. I drink to forget them.” Mollymauk laughs as Beauregard aims a second punch at his arm for the night, with a little more force behind it this time.</p><p>“...Thanks for coming out tonight,” Mollymauk says, looking at the shelves of liquor arranged behind the bar. “Gustav’s arranged a proper tour for me; you could've seen in Zadash next week.”</p><p>“Well, it’s less romantic, but I was here on business.” Beauregard coughs. “Either way, congratulations--it gives me a better idea of where you’ll drop off the map after your last stop in Rexxentrum.”</p><p>“I was thinking of trying to build a reputation on the coast next, maybe even Tal’Dorei…” Mollymauk winks. “Make it harder for you to find me next.”</p><p>“Good thing I worship the Knowing Mistress,” Beauregard raises her glass.</p><p>“And even better that I worship the Moonweaver, so I can throw you off my scent.”</p><p>“Until you start missing me.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid,” Mollymauk closes his eyes with a smile. “I always miss you.”</p>
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